Chapter 14
Charles held onto Ryder’s hand tighter than he probably needed to, but he had his reasons. He wanted the cowboy to know it was deliberate. He felt like he had to keep proving to himself that this was real. And for some reason, he felt the need to let people know that Ryder was his.
He was obsessing a bit over that last one, worrying it between metaphorical teeth.
It was a new feeling, something he hadn’t had with Tad.
Perhaps because with Tad he had always been the trophy, the husband who Tad wanted to show off.
He hadn’t minded that. He hadn’t really cared one way or another.
But he cared now.
He definitely had phone calls to make when they got back to New York. The service that’d sent Ryder, of course, to let them know he was canceling the contract, but especially to Victor. He had questions. Thoughts. Ideas.
He was beginning to understand Ryder, perhaps even on a higher level than Ryder knew himself, and he didn’t want to make a mess of things.
Ryder squeezed his hand, reminding him to be present, which he certainly was not at the moment. “Should we have mimosas?”
“Orange juice and sparkly booze for the win!” Ryder seemed younger, almost carefree.
“I would agree it’s a win.” The hotel restaurant was busy, but the scent of hot baked goods and maple syrup was strong. “I believe we’ve come to the right place.”
“I texted Roper. He’ll be down in a few.” Ryder rolled his eyes. “Don’t expect him to eat. He’s riding and staying lean.”
Ah, yes. “Fighting weight, you explained that to me.” Charles nodded, feeling like he was starting to understand this sport, for all of its insanity.
“Starve yourself so you’re light enough to risk your life sitting on the back of a bucking bull for eight seconds.
It all sounds perfectly reasonable.” He glanced at Ryder and grinned.
“You know it. Best money in the business, if you can stick and stay healthy.”
“That’s a big if, given what I saw last night.” They were seated in a booth, and people swooped in bringing coffee, water, and a basket of breakfast pastries. He picked up his coffee. “We’re going to the city after the weekend, right?”
Ryder checked his phone, then nodded. “Yes, Sir. You have meetings on Tuesday and Thursday. So you have us going to the city Sunday evening and returning to the lake house Friday morning.”
“Perfect. Thank you. No more business now. Mimosas.” He waved a server over and ordered, then smiled at Ryder. “Will you still keep my calendar even if you don’t work for me?”
“Yes. I don’t want anyone else taking care of you like I do. It’s important.”
Important. Ryder used that word often for things that mattered to him, and it was clear that he wanted to keep his job without calling it work.
“It is important. I trust you, and I can’t say that about too many people. I won’t hire anyone, I promise.”
“I’ve got your back. I swear to God.” Ryder winked at him. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know, cowboy.” He wanted to tell Ryder that this was bigger than letting him down, but in some ways, for Ryder, it wasn’t, and he understood that. He wasn’t sure why, but it seemed to fit.
Ryder beamed at him, offering him the breadbasket to choose from.
He plucked a biscuit out of the basket and reached for the butter, hungrier than he’d expected to be. That was probably because of all that exercise he’d gotten the night before.
He allowed himself a private bit of smug pleasure over that.
He’d made his cowboy ache for him, and soon he’d been in that tight body, once he found condoms and lube.
That would be one of today’s errands. He didn’t plan on waiting until they got to New York; he knew he couldn’t make it that long. “What are you going to eat, do you think? Should we order some fruit or something for Roper?”
“I’ll get him an egg white omelet with tomatoes and spinach. I’m thinking waffles. Crunchy, syrupy goodness.”
“I am famished. I am going to have pancakes with a fried egg and sausage.” And he might have seconds if it didn’t make Roper uncomfortable.
“Sounds good to me.” Ryder smiled at him, shook his head. “I hate egg whites. I had them for ten years, every damn morning. Hate them.”
He had to laugh. “You cowboys really sell your souls to this sport. I understand that plenty of athletes do—Olympic gymnasts, NBA players, marathon runners, etcetera—but I couldn’t imagine never eating a full egg.” He shook his head. He was much too lazy.
“Well, it’s only for twenty years, if you’re super lucky. Most of us, it’s for ten or so.” Ryder wasn’t being facetious. He was serious as a heart attack.
Charles wasn’t going to pretend to understand, but he also didn’t want to insult anyone by saying so. Fortunately, he was saved by the appearance of the server, who refilled their coffees.
“I think we’d like to order please.”
“Absolutely.” The server was smiling at Ryder as if she knew a secret. “What can I get you?”
“I’d like waffles and a side of crispy bacon.”
“I can do that, and you?” She looked Charles up and down as if she were measuring him.
“Pancakes with a side of sausage and a fried egg, please. Lots of syrup. And…and egg white omelet with…spinach and tomato, right?” He glanced at Ryder.
“Yes, Sir. That’s for my brother. He’ll be down in a bit.” Ryder offered the server a warm smile, and she beamed at him.
“I’m on it.” The server turned around and he was pretty sure he heard her say, “I love this time of year.”
Ryder’s chuckles were soft and amused. “Me too. I get to show off who I used to be.”
“Not right now. Now, you’re showing off who you are.” Charles reached across the table and touched his fingers.
Ryder blinked at him, cheeks going bright pink, beaming over. “I—that sounds good.”
Charles nodded to him. He didn’t want to cause a scene while they ate so he did pull his hand back, but only for now, and only because they were expecting Roper. “You should be proud of who you are, always. Who you were is part of that, but it’s not everything.”
“I’m learning that. It’s one hell of a lesson, but I am learning it.”
“Then I will have to remind you often.” He added cream to his coffee and picked it up to take a sip. “Not exactly gourmet, but it will serve its purpose.”
“Coffee is good; good coffee is better?” Ryder winked and sweetened his cup.
“Indeed.” His stomach growled, and he reached for another biscuit. “What time is the show tonight?”
“Starts at seven. Then Sunday starts at two p.m.”
“Good. That gives us lots of time to wander and relax. We must try different adult milkshakes tonight.” He was starting to wonder if Roper really was going to join them, or if he’d found something better to do with his time. Not that he intended to ask Ryder.
“Waffles?” A young man with arms full of food stopped next to their table.
He pointed to Ryder. “Right there. Pancakes here.”
“And the egg whites are mine. Sorry, y’all. I was putting on my smell good. Hey, Ry. How goes?”
“Good. Good, have a sit.”
“Good morning. Excellent timing, Roper.” He took another sip of his coffee wondering what it must be like to be someone like Roper.
“It’s a knack. Morning glories. Did y’all have a good night?”
Ryder blushed and smiled. “We did. You?”
“Had some whiskey at the afterparty, fell into bed, and crashed like a good little cowboy.” Those eyes were wicked, challenging, so unlike Ryder’s.
“You’ll appreciate a little food in your stomach then, I’d imagine.” He was hungry, and although he felt badly eating a full meal when Roper was restricted, it wasn’t enough to prevent him from diving right in.
“Yeah. Man, give me a bite of waffle?” Roper turned those eyes on Ryder, and Ryder forked up a bite immediately.
He could see how Roper might have depended on Ryder when they rode together. No wonder Ryder got such satisfaction out of looking after him. It did seem like Roper had figured it out on his own, but the men did look happy together.
His first bite of pancakes only made him more hungry. They were sweet and spongy, very well cooked, but he probably would have eaten them even if they’d tasted like cardboard with syrup on them.
“So…you left early…”
“I told you. I’m fine. It’s weird not pulling your rope,” Ryder answered, and Roper shook his head.
“No. What if you fell? What if you hit your head? No.”
He didn’t hear the twin telepathy part of the conversation, but he didn’t need to.
He understood. “Your brother is right,” he offered, and picked up his coffee.
It didn’t matter that he hadn’t indicated which brother he was speaking to either.
They understood. He expected that to be the end of that.
Ryder sighed softly, but he nodded. Roper shot him a grateful smile, digging into his eggs.
Charles refrained from pointing out that Ryder had other responsibilities now—to him, chiefly—he assumed that was either already clear to Roper or would be soon enough without his input.
“How are the waffles?”
“Exceptional.” The twins spoke together.
Ryder added, “Thank you, Sir.”
He chuckled at them both and gave Ryder a slight nod. “My pancakes are delicious, but they’re disappearing so fast I question whether I’m actually tasting them or just making that part up.”
“Oh, are you starving your guy, Ry? You know you got to keep him well-fed…”
“Oh, decidedly not. Ryder is an excellent cook. Very creative and capable. We just…missed dinner last night.”
Roper’s eyebrow flew up. “Did you?”
“Yep. Early night in. We’re hungry.” Ryder popped a bite of waffle in his mouth.
He caught the look Roper shot him and realized that Roper might have just come to the conclusion that Ryder was being taken advantage of.
Understandable under the circumstances, and he was relieved that he’d been up-front about that issue with Ryder.
“Ryder, perhaps you ought to explain to your brother that you are no longer in my employ?”
“He fired you?” Roper’s eyes narrowed.
Ryder shook his head. “No. No. I quit. It was mutual. We wanted to be together, huh?”